


Ineffable

by KateKintail



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Promptember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 02:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: A quiet day in the bookshop





	Ineffable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 12 of Promptember 2019

“Ugh!” Crowley squirmed in the straight-backed wooden chair, entirely uncomfortable.

Aziraphale’s gaze lifted from his book as he glanced left. “Do you not like the book?” His heart hurt just a little at the thought. He had spent more than a week selecting the right book for his… well, for Crowley. He had thought for certain this was it, that this would be the one.

Crowley let the book fall to his lap, losing his place among the pages. Aziraphale resisted the urge to reach over and gently take the book, straightening out the now bent or folded pages. But that would mean getting too close to Crowley’s lap, and he couldn’t have that now, could he? “It’s soooo dull.” He picked the book up again and began paging through it, skimming the words rather than reading them. “When does it get to the good stuff?”

“Well, there’s a lovely bit where Darcy says that in vain he has struggled and it will not do. Upon my first reading, it was the moment I knew for certain he and Lizzie were to end up togeth—”

“_Snrxxxxx!_” Eyes closed, Crowley let out a loud, dramatic snore.

Aziraphale bristled.

“Not that kind of good. The real kind of good.”

Aziraphale blushed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“The sex, angel. When do they get to the sex?”

His cheeks afire, Aziraphale buried his face behind his own book. “There are no explicit sex scenes in _Pride and Prejudice._”

“Ugh! Then what’s the point?” Crowley tossed the book over his shoulder, where it hit a sideboard and overturned half the tea service. He winced. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He turned, waved his hand, and the spilled cups and soaked crumpets went right back to perfect. The book still sat on the floor of the bookshop, but the tea itself was fine. “Don’t mention…”

“Oh, certainly not,” Aziraphale waved his hand dismissively. He would never speak to anyone about Crowley occasionally doing something that could be considered good or nice, largely because, of course, that would mean admitting he socialized with a demon. Or, even more dangerous, that he enjoyed socializing with a demon. “No mention shall ever pass my lips, as long as you hand me a cup of tea right now.”

With a smile, Crowley reached back for the nearest cup. Though it had been sitting out for a good hour now, he cradled it tightly in his hands and when he handed it over to Aziraphale, the tea was the perfect level of hot. Aziraphale nodded in appreciation as he took a sip.

Reaching behind him again, Crowley grabbed a tea biscuit. He dunked it in Aziraphale’s tea then shoved the soggy thing into his mouth, smiling. Aziraphale could not help smiling back.

“Let me hear a little of what you’re reading,” Crowley said, squirming in his chair again.

“I don’t think you’ll like _Ulysses_ very much either.”

Crowley shrugged, putting his hands behind his head, tipping his chair back on two legs, and plonking his feet in black boots on the table. Aziraphale winced but said nothing. “Who do you think got that book banned in the United States? All it took was a little whisper in a few ears. John Summer was a pushover.”

Thinking of the book burnings that had followed, Aziraphale pursed his lips in disapproval.

“Too easy. A book depicting the details of ordinary, everyday life? Oh, Heaven forbid!” He pressed the back of his head to his forehead, pretending to swoon to drive his sarcasm home.

Aziraphale tried his best to stay disapproving, but a smile forced its way onto his face despite himself. Yes, Heaven forbid. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He looked down at the beautiful, blue book in his hand, at its tiny printed font and thin pages. Without moving his hands, he allowed the pages to turn, as if caught by a strange breeze, even though they were inside. The pages flipped on their own, stopping so that the book lay open to the scene that had been declared obscene. He knew Crowley probably wouldn’t appreciate the beautiful, metaphoric language, but a masturbation scene was a masturbation scene, after all. Blushing, he read aloud.


End file.
